


S.L.A.I.N.E.D.

by fiordilatte



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Puns, Boyfriends, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Rap Battles, Slaine's Bad Poetry.pdf, Swag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3623868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiordilatte/pseuds/fiordilatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slaine tries out his rap game on Inaho, fails, ends up making out with him instead.  Whatever dude.  Bonus <i>album tracklist</i> included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	S.L.A.I.N.E.D.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh.. you know when you Google/YouTube “Slaine” and you get suggestions for the rapper? That is definitely prompt material. Alternatively, I memed too hard! /yesss, worst person in the fandom award is as good as mine/

**[[A-SIDE ► Midterms, Bitch ♪ ]]**

It had been a long, hectic day at school. Slaine was tired after eight hours of frantically running around campus from midterm to midterm, and his brain felt like it was going to shut down.

He just wanted to see his boyfriend.

And maybe get a good cuddle in.

...And then maybe drop some beats. The usual.

They’d both been so caught up with studying that they hadn’t had much time for each other in the past two weeks, and Slaine was getting restless. He wasn’t clingy to the point that he needed to be with Inaho every single waking moment, but the crunch leading up to exams had definitely taken its toll on him. Inaho really didn’t need to study that much, since he was already at the top of his program and would likely be getting his degree in record time. So they should have been able to spend some time together without it affecting their grades. But the younger boy had insisted, through a flurry of quick, frustratingly chaste kisses, that Slaine take the time to review all of his notes and ‘prepare responsibly.’

And so, _cut off_ until midterms were over. Cold as ice. It was easy to see who called the shots - it had been a simple matter of self control, of which Inaho had an abundance, and which Slaine only occasionally possessed.

“Finally done!” Matsuribi Kisaki exclaimed from the seat next to him, stretching out and passing a hand through his dirty blond hair. “How do you think you did, Slaine? Communications was good for me, but this one was pretty tough.”

He offered his classmate a friendly but distracted smile. Slaine had rushed to pack his things, and was just in the middle of slinging his bag over his shoulders. “Sorry, what was that?”

“No one should look that happy after an Econ exam. Unless… you’re getting some tonight?” Tsumugi Yutaro piped up, from the next desk over. Slaine flinched away from the bespectacled boy and held his bookbag to his chest in a defensive position, as his mind raced to produce a plausible way to deny everything. “Say, let me know if you can hook me up -”

“You're so greedy!” Kisaki rounded on his friend, crossing his arms and setting his face in a reprimanding scowl. “How do you always jump to that, every time? I don’t get it.” He turned to Slaine, with an apologetic shrug. “Please ignore him.”

He had the decency to blush. “It's fine,” Slaine managed, fiddling awkwardly with the bat-shaped pendant that hung at his neck. Yutaro was right, in a sense, though he wouldn't be confirming anything of that nature.

“We’re going to celebrate with drinks tonight if you want to join us,” his classmate added. “Me, Yutaro, some of the girls from Marketing. I could really go for some nihonshu after all this cramming…. And we’d love to see you get drunk, Slaine!”

The blond shook his head sheepishly. “Thanks for offering, Kisaki. Maybe another time? I really should get going, I said I’d meet Inaho right after I finished.” Absolutely for sex reasons (and yet, so much more) - but Slaine was usually tactful about not disclosing that kind of information to the general public.

“No worries, I'll see you in class!” Kisaki called over his shoulder, with a cheerful wave.

He nodded, unable to stop the excitement from showing on his face.

No more exams.

* * *

**[[B-SIDE ► Rap Game, Slaine Troyard ♫ ]]**

He practically ran for Inaho's dorm, then questioned why he was in such a hurry. But the reason was clear. The rhymes needed to be laid down, and he, too, needed to get laid. It was the only way.

“Yo,” said Slaine, then immediately regretted it.

“That doesn’t sound right, coming from you,” Inaho replied from across the room.

No, no it did not. He might have to give up on that one.

He let the door close behind him, as he toed off his shoes and set his bag against the wall. The blond padded over to the study desk, where Inaho appeared to be situated quite comfortably.

Slaine peered over the back of Inaho's swivel chair, and moved in to give the brunet a hug from behind. “Hi,” he murmured, draping his lean arms over Inaho’s chest as the other boy pored intently over a robotics textbook. A smile tugged at his lips. His boyfriend _would_ start pre-reading for his next classes right after exam week ended.

Inaho brushed his fingertips against Slaine’s in brief acknowledgment, but continued reading. “How were your midterms?”

He nuzzled into the crook of the other boy’s neck, breathing in the warm, clean, Inaho-scent of soap and citrus shampoo. “Okay, I suppose? I just wish I didn’t have so many at once, but I’m glad they’re over.” He closed his eyes, and let himself enjoy the moment. “I wanted to show you something I’ve been working on.”

The brunet turned the page calmly. “You can’t be a rapper.” Kaizuka Inaho was remarkably good at shooting Slaine Troyard down before he could fully explain himself.

He bristled, though his post-exam exhaustion didn’t give him the energy to be too annoyed. “Why not? You haven’t even heard it yet! And how did you know, anyway?”

Inaho looked up from his textbook and spun around in his chair to face the blond. He seemed slightly taken aback by the sight, although most people wouldn’t have been able to tell by the bland expression he wore. “Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors? I hope you didn’t have those on during your exams.”

“Sh-Shut up, it’s supposed to be cool. My friend Lemrina helped me pick them.” At the very least, Slaine thought, they served to hide the flush that was steadily creeping up his face.

Inaho snapped the book shut, stood up, and matter-of-factly made his way over to sit on the neatly made bed. His boyfriend was rather presumptuous today, but Slaine had no reason to argue with the direction that this was headed in.

“Well, to answer your question, I took a look when you were finishing your exams. You always forget something here when you come over.” The brunet held out a red notebook and tapped the cover pointedly. “Iambic pentameter is off. Rhyme scheme, nonexistent. Also, your syllable counts don’t match line-to-line, so there’s no beat to follow.” Inaho tilted his head. “Are you sure it isn't just freeform poetry?”

He should have known that this was going to happen.

“It’s not!” Slaine insisted, snatching the notebook out of his boyfriend's hands. He would have to remind Inaho to stop going through his things. “I have some pretty good ideas.”

“Guess I have no choice, then. Prove it to me,” said Inaho, and Slaine dragged himself forward to close the remaining gap between them.

He opened his book up, flipped to The Page, and tore the sheet out without further ceremony. It wasn’t a real ambition, of course, since he was quite serious about being in the business program, but Slaine liked to have a little fun too, sometimes. (And perhaps he'd been listening to excessive amounts of very bad study music for the past few months. He blamed the cram sessions with Kisaki and Yutaro, really.) It would be nice if Inaho could be a little more receptive. The shades looked good, damn it.

“So?” the brunet said, patting his lap invitingly. “You've got my full attention now.”

Slaine felt his mouth go dry, but he resolved to do his best. It _was_ what he wanted. Though he hadn’t quite expected it to go this way.

“L-Let justice be done,” he stammered out, reading off the crumpled piece of notebook paper, feeling pathetic. He straddled the other boy’s hips, face growing redder by the second. Inaho wasted no time in slipping his hands under the thin cotton of Slaine’s shirt, and the blond faltered, his words nearly leaving him as he melted into the touch. He’d missed this more than he wanted to admit. But there were priorities. He glanced down at his paper dubiously. “Though... the heavens fall?”

Maybe he should have gone for those drinks after all.

“That doesn’t rhyme,” said Inaho dismissively, then made short work of lifting the white shirt over Slaine’s head and discarding it on the carpet. Merciless. “They’re not your own words, either. Original Latin legal phrase, _fiat justitia ruat caelum_. Try again.”

“I was just getting started,” he growled, shifting his weight on Inaho’s thighs, knees sinking into the mattress. He shivered as the cool air brushed against his bare skin, but Inaho was warm. Slaine began to count off to a nonexistent beat, determined to have his boyfriend approve of at least one of his lines.

Five-six-seven-eight and -

Inaho reached up to remove the shades from his face. The blushing intensified. “You really shouldn’t wear these inside. They serve no function other than to obstruct your vision.” Slaine could have sworn Inaho smirked at him just then. “And mine... of you.”

So the sunglasses made their way to the floor, too, and the direct eye contact made the scrutiny all the worse. But Inaho couldn’t win all the time.

“Refraction,” he breathed, moving to grab Inaho by the shirt collar, trying to gain some control over the situation. He pulled the younger boy even closer toward him, putting a hand under his chin and affectionately angling his head up. Slaine smiled, and traced his fingertips along Inaho’s irresistible jawline. He consulted the lyric sheet again, sweating profusely as he tried to recall the flow of stressed and unstressed syllables.

“Blue skies,  
My, er, my eyes…”

Well, he’d definitely forgotten to finish that verse. No matter, he’d freestyle. It would be fine. Like improv. Slaine cleared his throat.

“So many diffractions in the air -  
Inaho, why are you looking at me like that?”

Dark eyes stared at him blankly. However, in their time together, Slaine had grown to understand that this particular expression was actually one of _pure horror_. It had something to do with the nuances of Inaho’s face. Which he knew. So very, very well.

“It’s called Rayleigh scattering, Slaine. I explained this to you several times.” Inaho almost sounded distraught.

“Please don't do that,” he protested, fighting yet another blush, “I’m not the physics major! At least I’m trying.”

“Ah. Sure.”

Slaine was ready to throw down some extreme gangster terminology when - no no no _oh god yes_ …

A kiss, finally, with teeth grazing at his lower lip and nibbling softly. Inaho glided his hands along Slaine’s waist, palms velvet and warm on the pale skin.

“Mmm… you’re terrible,” he announced, without meaning it at all.

“Keep going,” said Inaho. And maybe Slaine was just paranoid now, but there seemed to be a flicker of amusement in the words.

He took a deep breath. He totally had this.

“Blue roses, m-motherfucker,  
Like I’d ever be such a sucker  
For miracles and impossibilities,  
I'll rely on my own capabilities!”

In retrospect, that one could have been okay if his voice wasn’t shaking so much. And maybe if he wasn’t shirtless and grinding on his boyfriend. But Slaine Troyard would persevere.

“You never swear,” Inaho commented, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. So slightly, Slaine was the only person in the world who would have noticed. “It sounds forced. Rhyming was good this time, though.” The brunet flashed him a fleeting, almost teasing, thumbs-up, then resumed the touching. The glorious touching. Slaine wanted to die.

Why couldn’t he beat Inaho at anything?

“One more verse,” Slaine whispered, knowing he was digging himself a deeper hole with each off-beat rhyme. A twinge of desperation slipped into his voice. “One more verse, and I’ll prove it to you.” He’d scrawled something incoherent about robots at the bottom of the page, and it was probably not going to work, but he was stubborn and would take it to the very end.

Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared for what happened next. Without warning, Inaho wove his fingers through Slaine’s fair hair, gently massaging him in exactly the way he liked. The younger boy rubbed soothing circles in all the tensest areas, kneading the stress and self-wrought anxiety out. Slaine felt his conviction evaporate instantly as he went lax in Inaho's capable hands, and his eyes drooped shut in defeat. He couldn’t fight something like that. It was his ultimate weakness.

“You really are the worst,” he said, wrapping his arms around Inaho, burying his face into the other boy's chest. Slaine bit his lip. “But don’t stop.”

“Slaine...” Inaho stroked his hair. “I think we should put your music career on hold. Besides, I already decided that I prefer seeing you in business attire. It looks very good on you.”

He lifted his head. “Are you making career choices for me based on what I’d have to wear?”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Inaho sounded so impossibly innocent, though the tiny smile was utterly shameless, as far as the blond was concerned. “Suits are better. There are statistically more layers for me to play with.”

“Why can’t you be nicer about this?” he mumbled, from somewhere against his boyfriend’s lips.

“I don’t really care about those kinds of things,” Inaho stated flatly, and the disinterest in his tone was enough for Slaine to believe him. A harder kiss; their tongues met and he rocked slowly on Inaho’s lap with a small, contented sigh. “It’s -” Inaho slid his mouth down to Slaine’s neck and sucked thoughtfully - “not something I like.”

He reached to remove Inaho’s cardigan, flicking the buttons with practiced ease and feeling rather grateful that he was no longer a fumbling teenager. Though just barely - he was only twenty, after all.

“So what _do_ you like?” Slaine challenged, the page of lyrics falling to the floor, forgotten. The rap game had been lost. Forever.

Inaho paused for a moment, then simply laced their fingers together. “I thought that was obvious. I just like you.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> /wow nice save there Inaho  
> Thanks for reading :D My sincere apologies for being a moron. Also, hair kink too strong! A/Z better end with a Slaine/Inaho rap battle or I call shenanigans... regardless, #TeamKisaki all the way yo. Btw here on the denial train, Slaine has graduated and become a submissive seme in order to achieve _maximum awkwardness_ ^_^
> 
> Have a siiiick day and good luck for the finale! ❤


End file.
